'Ere the Sun Rises
Wind stirs the leaves, and I am awakened from uneasy slumber. No fire is yet seen in the sky; a sky not yet blue, and not black. Caught between light and dark, as am I, between this world, and the world that is known only to my mind.
I must get going. As surely as the grass is green, as sure as the sky will reflect the water that runs out to sea, I must depart this abode, and find new sanctuary. The day has called, and I must meet its growing light. 'Ere through the fire's siren song, I depart the emerald, and walk under the blue.
No silence here, in day, only the laughter of the breeze, and the chatter of water. Gone, is the silence and terror of the night, where I am in solitude, but without solace. Sing, oh birds, sing, so that I may reach the coda of the day. Let melody be my strength, harmony my companion, and let dissonance be cast into the depths of the world.
I recall my dream, as I walk through the waking world. I was a king, in crafted house of stone, lord and master of all. I dreamt that night was no longer foe. I dreamt that its terrors were as nothing, and that I was as bright as the fire of Heaven itself. I dreamt that I saw all that was above, and all that was below. I dreamt it all. And the dream ended. Sliding away as surely as the fire moves through the sky. As the creatures of reality part before me. As heartbeat moves in time with song, as I fear looming terror of the dark.
I must keep moving. But to where? Where do I find destination, if journey's end can even await me?
The fire dims further, and darker grows my soul. Where did journey begin, I wonder? When did fate ordain that journey begin at all? When was the first step taken, and how many miles are there in eternity? Is there a path to follow, or do I make my own? Does the path exist at all, or is the idea as fleeting as the deceptions of my mind? The fire offers no answer, and I draw a blade – its steel clean, its hilt unblemished. Yet damaged is my soul. For I have held this steel before, I think, yet broken still are bones, and blood has poured from wounds unremembered. The blade will cut the body, but that is all. No destruction to that which does not exist – the non-existent shall endure. Memories, dreams, nightmares. Unending, all of them, from now, until the ending of the world, if eternity grants its blessing for itself to end.
I dig. I want it to end. Let me be free from eternity, and cycle of light and dark. Let me find warmth, in the bosom of the world. Let it end, I say, so that I may stab eternity, and laugh, even as I take last breath. Let me find new fire.
I descend, and the fire awaits, but casts as dark a shadow as any other. I descend, and grow colder, as ice runs up my spine, and frost becomes my soul. I descend, and dread awaits me, new friend, yet also known. I descend, and foes await me, singing song of victory everlasting. They have won, and I am but the audience that beholds their time upon the stage. I gaze upwards, and see light of moon. Silver light, so far, and dimmer than that of fire. Out of reach, forevermore, as I have spurned the advances of the dark. Forgetting that even in the dark, there is light, and darkness can grow in light's greatest shadow.
I see my audience, as they surround me. I see end close in, as surely as eternity dictates passage of the world. I see past, present, and future, joined in infinite majesty. I see as they laugh, and ask, "can this be the one who shook the kingdoms of the world?"
They close in, and hold me. They close in, and I let it end. I see the beauty of Death, as she greets me as an old friend. I clutch Death, as a child does to their mother, as they desperately try to cling to the world. I tell Death my fears, my dreams, my desires. My hope that we shall depart as equals, beyond the eyes of sun and moon, and beyond the world itself.
But Death spurns me, and leaves me in the dark. Death drops me, and I am but a child. Death leaves, and the dark is all that remains. Death departs, and I am but alone in what she leaves.
From now until the end of time.